Project Freelancer: The other agents- DC's Story
by LiamStraughan
Summary: The original story, leading up to this one, written by Ranger Nikhi. See URL in intro. This story is a CONTINUATION of the story of Project Freelancer: the other agents, from Agent DC's perspective.
1. Chapter 1

The original story, (by Ranger Nikhi):

s/9434687/1/Project-Freelancer-The-Other-Agents

A continuation of **Project Freelancer: The other agents** (From the different perspective of Agent DC)-

The silence pierced the air for a second. No one dared utter a word, or a whisper. Before one of the rebels addressed the squad. "If you comply with our instructions, no-one will be hurt here, and you will eventually be let go. If you do not, we will execute each of you individually, one by one, after you have dug your own graves. It's your choice." The silence rang true in the air, with the squad still seemingly frozen with caution and fear. "If we decide to comply," queried Idaho, "none of us will be hurt, tortured or killed?" "That is correct. We wish only to send a message you're your brief imprisonment. A strong message of protest against imperialism and war mongering."

Promises of safety under the guard of these rebels, and of possible release may have seemed desirable to DC, but he didn't want to endanger his fellow soldiers. That part of what the rebel leader had said bothered him. "Brief imprisonment". How long was brief? And what was their definition of "release"?

He had to agree to surrender. He was messed up enough as it was, but he thought himself tough and man enough to endure for their sake.

DC was a different kind of soldier. In his past, he had experienced a lot of psychological pain and depression, and at some point, had hearing the voices of his past and present friends crying out, in despair and in agony, like a drill, through his mind. He possessed a fiery, untamed anger and fierce temper deep within his soul, a forever burning flame of raw passion, emotion and pain inside of him that he kept hidden from the others, for he thought it wouldn't get him past selection for this trial. This was to be his proving ground.

That is, until what looked like certain surrender. That or death at the hands of these rebels. He felt for his teammates, all of them, but he had to hide it away. He felt it a weakness in the face of pressure, conflict and existing fear. He had only known Alaska and Indiana for a short time. They too, he thought, were people he cared about, as well as Idaho.

He masked his emotions. Preferred to save face and to hide away, to keep a mask on his true psyche and how he felt in front of the others. All hidden in his blue eyes and pale complexion, ironically, hidden in the scarlet and blue armour he wore, his silver visor distinguishing him from the others. He seldom was seen without his armour. Comfortably numb, emotionally void and ready to fight for freedom…

"Step forward, and surrender all of your weaponry and communications devices immediately. If you do not comply, we will use force." The soldiers, every one of them, followed the sharp, stern order of the rebels' leader. These advanced, sure-fire and high quality weapons had just as quickly fallen out of their control and into the hands of a force that had already challenged jeopardised and certainly thwarted UNSC missions before, quite often, as a matter of fact.

The agents were restrained, and led into the compound, waiting for whatever promises and treatment the rebels had planned… DC wasn't planning to make it easy, for the rebels, albeit, himself…


	2. Chapter 2

The compound itself was quite dimly lit. DC, along with his fellow soldiers, led in line to where they would be held, pending whatever fate may await them. What an end, he thought. The trials, the training, all leading to this, just to simply surrender? "Do not move." Bellowed the first guard. They were inside, in a stark, plain and viewless room. Just steel walls and some atmosphere of light…

The guard proceeded to move along the line, inspecting each agent, turned prisoner, carefully. Then it came DC's turn.

Stared at by an unknown enemy, his life in his own hands, DC didn't know what to make of it. A true soldier never let his interrogator break him. He hadn't been broken yet, but he wanted to break his captors. He wanted to let them know he was tougher than them, than anyone. He was indestructible. Another crisp silence…

"FUCK YOU!" shouted DC, in a deep, authoritative and hate-filled manner of tone, his arms suddenly flying towards the guard, still bound, trying to get a firm, lethal grasp around the guard's neck and trying to make some effort of resistance.

DC's visor was all of a sudden smashed by the butt of a rifle, and his helmet removed forcibly by the hands of his enemy. He lay on the solid, hard floor with his face bleeding and a large bruise across the right hand side of his face.

Just as his initial onslaught was seemingly over, DC was quickly held to his feet by numerous rebel soldiers, and bludgeoned across his face again with a rifle. Quickly beaten down to the ground, hooded and dragged to a separate location.

"Let that be an example. If you resist any of our demands or checks, people will be hurt."

No one dared utter a word, or whisper. Idaho only looked on in anger through his visor at his friend's newly found treatment and almost certain torture…


	3. Chapter 3

His vision fading back into some obscurity, DC found himself in an unknown room, with at least two heavily armed rebels at the ready, to ask questions, and, put simply, just make life for him inside that hellhole even more difficult than it had been if he didn't comply.

DC's mind, still racing from what he had done, and how he had potentially jeopardised his fellow soldiers, was in complete overdrive.

The relative silence of the room dissipated, broken by a single voice; "Prisoner, remain where you are. Do not attempt to move. If you attempt to do anything else to defy us, one false move, then you will be tortured. Remain where you are."

"Easy." DC thought, "Just sit here and let them manipulate you like a puppet, letting them control your ability to stay in the fight. Not in this lifetime. Just remember your training."

"Prisoner! Do not move! If you attempt to escape or attack us, deadly force will be used." This was when the real shit started.

"What is your operating number? Who are you working for? Why are you here? What is your name? Who are you working for? What is your operating number?"

Silence. Complete, bitter silence. Albeit, not for long.

His stare at the wall remained, almost as if he was dreaming, to an earlier time where he didn't have all the problems he already did. Where he had once loved someone, he had friends; where he had an existence beyond that of his place in the program. But all of that was gone. He had left his family the first chance he had gotten. He left his friends. And, he was never coming back. One of the only people he thought he had truly loved was never to be seen by him again.

The interrogation lasted for several hours. Still no response.


	4. Chapter 4

Blackness. Total blackness. Visions of what his disappearance meant for the few people he knew, or even considered himself to have any relation to, filled his corrupted and all but shattered psyche. The offering of food kept him in check. He didn't know what the dish that looked vaguely like some sort of soup was, but the instinct was primal. Eat the damn food. Don't question it. Don't make any trouble, DC.

The interrogation room sort of reminded him of home. Back when he didn't have to worry about any of that random UNSC nonsense, no rebels, no capture, no having to draw blood.

Eventually, it became a cause in futility. He wouldn't say a damn word. Drugged and blacked out, DC was taken back to where he had previously been, noticing again, that same suit of armour, only this time, exhibiting some form of life. But he or she was on the other side!

He tapped on the wall, to try and gauge some response. "Hey, listen!" DC whispered, slightly frustrated in his manner.

"Wait, who are you? What are you doing? Are you the only other freelancer here?" Asked the prisoner, still cautious about whether this, to him, was merely a prophetic vision, or for real.

"No, there are 4 of us, but we were all captured. They've tried to interrogate me for any and all information I have on the UNSC activities around this area. I can't tell you much more, but in essence, they've only ever made me give away snippets of information. Nothing too important, mind you." He replied.

"Hang on a minute, so you weren't trying to rescue me?"

"Well, we didn't exactly have that in mind."

"Hang on; I think I have an idea. Are you able to move?" DC asked, desperate to formulate some effort at possible escape.

"Just, but I don't see how we're going to, this place can be crawling with sentries at any given moment; and you can thank your lucky stars that they aren't here now."

"Just follow my lead, OK? I think this will work."

"HEY! Gimme some damn food! What, don't you have food here? Is that why you hate freedom so much, you pigs!"

"Prisoner! Remain silent, or we will use force! And trust us, through what you have been through already, this will be unparalleled in a level of pain."

"Just fucking try me!"

The guards swept into the corridor, two of them. Armed, but seemingly afraid. These were obviously the new guys on shift.

The doors of both cells opened. One guard entered. DC put up his defence, ready to fight hand to hand. He landed a blow into the guard's throat, and into his nose. Crippled and seemingly dazed, the guard stumbled on his feet and in his stride. But he wasn't down yet.

Suddenly, DC heard similar sounds coming from the cell next to him. The Unknown Soldier had the rebel guard's weapon. He fired. The shot stopped in the back of the other guard's neck.

"Jesus, I said to follow my lead, and you did more than just that! Let's get the hell outta here!" DC swiped the other pistol, and the 2 grenades from the guard on the floor.

Trying to get the other 3 operatives out of their cells, located away from where DC and the unknown were would be a tough call. Who knew how many guards were "taking care" of them? Were they even all still alive?

"Wait," DC suddenly urged his fellow soldier, "Any plan for a full on assault would almost certainly mean death." But then, the idea hit him. "Short out the mechanisms keeping the other cell doors closed." And then, when the others were free, they would have a better chance of blasting their way out.

DC and the unknown kept to strictly the shadows, in order to try and bring about their freedom, and ultimately, the others' as well.

Another two guards in front of the arms depot. This was where all DC's weaponry was. When the opportunity presented itself, and the changing of the guard was at its lowest awareness and potential reaction time, he took the opportunity. The previous guards were out of sight. Two shots, both hitting their targets simultaneously. Both dropped to the floor without so much as a single disturbance. DC seized back his rocket launcher, grenades and sidearm. "Well, they're fucked now", DC said, with some slight worry in his voice; "Do you reckon they've tried as well?"

"I don't know, but what I do know, is that we should just kill the power. I can't really seem to think of another way to short out the lock mechanisms. I say we place some charges, and just blow the generator sky high." The unknown replied.

The plan was to get out without being seen, or, well, close to unseen…

"Charges set. Take cover."

"Fire in the hole!"


End file.
